Pain
by Author of Doom Earth
Summary: With the wizarding world at war, many of its inhabitants have to deal with difficult issues and personal tragedy. Everyone has been effected, everyone as felt pain, guilt, remorse... Especially Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. HPDM
1. Ch1 Late Night Bath

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, or any other familiar names/terms in this fic. Tis only a fanfic y'all! COME ON! LOL. Enjoy!

**PAIN**

**LATE NIGHT BATH**

The halls of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry were dreary and heavy with premonition of ill times ahead. Its students were no longer only concerned with trivial teenage thoughts, but with concerns for their lives and for their families. Hearts were heavy with burden and dreams were dark as their widened pupils. Pain was a constant with every day's new beginning, but pain was a lot deeper for two boys in particular.

He tossed and turned in-between the green silk sheets of his dorm room bed; sweat making the soft fabric cling to his pale flesh; flesh made more pallid by the nightmare that wrung through his brain. His chin-length blond hair clung to the back of his neck and fell tumultuously over eyes that were clenched shut. His breath was not the normal shallow, soft breathing of a normal, sleeping individual. Air came in as gasps and occasionally out as muffled screams of terror. He never slept in the fancy silk pajamas his Mother insisted on buying for him anymore, they became ruined by sweat and caused him to become warmer and more uncomfortable in his sleep; if you could call it sleep. Every day he thanked his status in his House that he was able to snag a room all to his self, meant to be for one of the Prefects (which he now was) but given to him in his first year. He had a lurking suspicion his Father had something to do with it.

His Father. Lucius Malfoy, the cause of his current nightmare.

Draco let out a breathless gasp, sitting up abruptly with a motion that threw the top-sheet from his body. He grasped at his throat, sore from screaming, staring down at his left arm with whitened eyes. His arm was, as he had expected, red and swollen, veins showing dark on his normally insipid flesh. He bit his bottom lip 'til it swelled red with blood, biting back the sharp ache that shot through his body, courtesy of the blood pumping through from his heart. He could hardly breathe for pain and his face was more than flustered.

At the other end of the school high up in Gryffindor tower, a similar scene had already taken place.

Harry Potter shifted the invisibility cloak off his shoulder and rolled it up, tucking it with his clothing into one of the cubbyholes along the far wall of the Prefect's bathroom. He sighed as the warm water touched his sore flesh, making his muscles contract for a second and he enjoyed the sweet release as they relaxed afterwards. He placed his glasses on top of the fluffy white towel he had placed by the pool-sized bathtub. His feet touched the bottom now. He let the tepid waves wash over his body and took a few deep, calming breaths before submersing his whole being in the clear depths.

Draco made his way down the halls, not too far from the Slytherin commons, towards the Prefect's bathroom. He had thrown a deep green robe over his sweat-soaked frame; deciding that he would be more comfortable after a nice bath. He muttered the password to the mermaid portrait, moved to the front door by Weasley's request as she kept staring at the boys who tried to bathe. Draco usually chuckled when he saw her; and she gave him her usual, lustful stare before budging forward and admitting him inside. He didn't let out another sound this time.

He passed the pool and went over to the cubbies, not bothering to look at the water. It was three in the morning; no one would possibly be awake. Draco leaned over the sinks and wiped the sleep fro his eyes, looking at himself in his disheveled state. He sighed inwardly at himself, his mind lingering on his Father and the Dark Lord and what they had put him through in the past. He hated them both. Draco had never taken being a pawn lightly and loathed the reminders he frequently received.

Taking off his robe was a slow chore, made painful by the throbbing in his arm. He hung it gently on a hook and stripped off his boxers, taking another look in the mirror. He could see the scars, almost silver on the white of his skin. He examined each one, painstakingly remembering where and how he had gotten them. He looked up from the heinous mark on his arm and straight into his own crying, gray eyes.

Harry heard the soft sound of footsteps echoing under the water and slowly lifted his head from the water. He hadn't thought that anyone would be awake at the time he was bathing. He wasn't sure whether or not he should look and see who it was; he had no interest in looking at another guy naked, but his curiosity at the visitor's identity won out.

The other person had his back turned to Harry and had already begun to undress. Harry was about to look away when his eyes caught hold of the marks marring the perfect canvas of the boy's back. He cringed as he saw the redness of new scars and the damage of older ones. They looked quite painful, and Harry knew pain quite well. He felt sorry for the stranger and blushed that he had seen what he did. Obviously this person had chosen to bathe in the middle of the night to hide his appearance. Harry swam underwater to the middle of the pool to give the other guy some space, as well as to give himself some privacy. He tried not to bother the other, but found himself looking back up at the sound of approaching footsteps to see the identity of the unfamiliar person. The boy turned around and headed towards the water's edge and Harry squinted, finding it hard to see without his glasses. It wasn't until he was at the water's edge that Harry saw clearly who the fellow bather was and he looked straight at Draco Malfoy. Naked.


	2. Ch2 Pity

Harry wasn't quite sure how to react and his body opted to blush violently and submerse himself once again in the hopes of going unnoticed. Lucky for him, Draco seemed too distracted to watch the waters around him. Had he really just seen Draco Malfoy like that? Naked and crying… Harry momentarily thought of a gryndilow catching Malfoy unawares and the notion made him chuckle underwater, filling his lungs with liquid so he came up sputtering and coughing. So much for incognito…

Draco let the water wash away his worries as he dove under its pristine surface. He came back up and leaned his back against the side, droplets of water falling gracefully from his taut skin. He sighed and slumped a bit, not paying much attention to his surroundings; lost in thought, as he had been the last two years or so. With his Father in Azkaban… could that make him free? Could he actually defy the Dark Lord?

He sighed. He knew he couldn't actually go through with it. Not for his own sake. No. Draco could care less at this point whether he lived or died. He had to keep being the perfect little Death Eater to spare the life of his Mother.

Not that his Mother had been the best. Quite the contrary. She had never really paid him much mind, save to treat him as a lovely pet with a doting sort of affection that never was quite physical. She never said she loved him, never hugged him or kissed his cheek. She never comforted him when he had nightmares as a child…

But, contrary to popular belief, Draco Malfoy had a soul. He didn't want to see his Mother suffer anymore than she had since his Father had been sent to Azkaban. Despite all her motherly flaws, she was still his mother and he felt obligated to protect her. His silent contemplation was interrupted by a gurgling sound coming from a few feet away and a splash as someone came up from the bath.

"Who's there!" He snapped, not in the mood to come up with anything witty or original at the moment.

Harry blanched. He really wasn't in the mood for a fight. "Potter." He said warily. He could see the whites of Draco's eyes from far away.

"Gryndilow got your foot, Potter?" His wit had returned to him. "What are you doing in here so late?" He spat.

"I don't have to answer to you, Malfoy!" Harry spat back. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Taking a bath, you duffer," Draco smirked. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Harry contemplated what he should say or do at the instant. He was Harry James Potter- The Boy Who Lived! He was helpful and sympathetic, a hero. He hated Draco Malfoy with a passion, but wasn't it only last year he had felt pity for him? He had seen Draco crying in the bathroom, he had performed that… Harry didn't want to think about that. It was to horrible a punishment- even for Malfoy. Harry had seen Draco try to kill Dumbledore, but he couldn't do it. He remembered feeling a bit sorry for the blond-haired Death Eater. Pity, almost as he thought now about what had transgressed in the boy's life. He could see the scars still visibly from far away and felt a strange sensation well in his heart. Did he want to be _nice_ to **_Malfoy_**! He shook his head at himself, trying to purge the thoughts froom his mind.

"Is something the matter with you, Potter?" Malfoy raised his brow high and furrowed the other.

"No, nothing." Harry turned away and took some soap from a tap. He decided that ignoring the other would be best, he even contemplated leaving the room altogether… That thought was quickly sent away- There was absolutely **_no way_** he was going to let Malfoy see him naked! He gave a shudder as he imagined himself parading in front of the Slytherin in nothing but his birthday suit…

Wait a second! Why was he _parading_! Surely he didn't want Malfoy to see his…? This made him cough violently in protest, almost swallowing the shampoo that was dripping down his forehead in an act of insurgence.

"By the Gods. Potter," Malfoy stopped scrubbing his own weary skin and looked up when he heard the hacking. "Has no one taught you how to bathe yourself!" He looked quite amused.

Draco wanted nothing more than to be alone at the moment, but he needed to stay and cleanse himself in order to remove sweats sticky discomfort from his skin. He sighed and tried to forget about the half-breed at the other end and continued to wash himself off. He thought back to the last time he had seen Potter at school. It was the end of last year high up in the North Tower with Professor Dumbledore…

Draco didn't want to think about that. About how he failed the Dark Lord, about how he had been punished for it later on… Dumbledore had offered him help…He offered protection and salvation… Draco had given that night a lot of thought. What if he had gotten the opportunity to answer..? Would he say yes? He knew now that he should have. He should have somehow stopped Snape from… Draco held back another tear. There was no way he was going to fall apart in front of Potter, let alone anyone else. He punched the side of the tub, the pain of the collision was no more than that he had been experiencing already. He looked over at Potter, looking quite upset himself and slightly embarrassed. Draco shook his head. Famous Harry Potter. He seemed quite human here and now…

Harry's mind wouldn't stop lingering on Malfoy. Malfoy crying, Malfoy scarred, Malfoy, _naked_. He shuddered again and tried to wipe the appearance of the Death-Eater's body completely bared from his mind once more. It was quite a sad thing to see… Sad in an almost beautiful way…

Harry groaned. He must have been awfully tired to be thinking such ways… He swam over to the edge where he had laid his own towel and made an effort to get out and covered as soon as he could manage. Harry did not want the embarrassment of Draco seeing him to… Wait a second! Did he just think of Malfoy as _Draco_! He hurried into a stall, unnoticed grabbing his clothes from the cubbyhole on the way in.


	3. Ch3 Help?

Draco paid no mind to Potter as he fled to change, understanding full well the need to be alone and enclosed inside himself. Besides, he had too much on his mind.

Some times like these he would go to Pansy's room and wake her up. She never seemed to mind 'comforting him', no matter what the time of day or night. The thought made him laugh. He didn't love Pansy Parkinson, nor did he love any of the other girls he had been intimate with. He was, after all, a Malfoy, and Malfoys only loved power. Draco loved the power he had over most of his fellow students, the fear he had instilled in his so-called peers. There were very few who didn't fear and/or respect him. He could, in fact, count them on one hand.

Potter, Weasley, Granger. A Half-Breed, a Blood Traitor, and a Mud-Blood. The thought of them all made him sneer. They didn't fear him and that set Draco at unease.

Draco sighed. Thinking about Potter only reminded him of a few months before when they had been in the North Tower. He absently wondered whether the offer from Dumbledore could be available to him still; if he were to ask. Of course, he was taught that Malfoys never ask for help…

But look at where that got them all! He had read his family's history and seen all of them face horrible fates, alone. Many of them were maimed and killed when they should have gotten help. After all, wasn't asking for help a brave thing to do? Admitting your own weaknesses… especially to your worst enemy. His Father would disown him if he knew Draco was even _contemplating_ doing such a thing… But then again, his Father had ended up in Azkaban without any help from his fellows to clear his name or free him…

Harry gathered up his cloak and went to leave, reaching the door before a voice stopped him.

"Potter, wait," Harry's eyes grew wide and he found himself turning towards Draco, who had already climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" His voice still held bitterness and resentment, but Draco didn't even blink.

"I need to ask you something…" The Slytherin began.

Now he had Harry's attention. Draco Malfoy asking _him_ for something! "What's that, Malfoy?" He raised his eyebrows.

Draco took a deep breath and sighed. Could he really ask Potter for help?

"You remember," He began, still unsure of whether or not to bring up what he was preparing to. "That night at the North Tower? When Dumbledore…" He could feel his throat clenching. "When he offered me help?"

Harry felt like a fist had clenched over his heart and was trying to explode it. The memory of Professor Dumbledore 's fate was still fresh in his mind and he bit back tears of loss. How _dare_ Malfoy talk to him about Dumbledore! "I remembering him saying that Malfoy," Harry's face had grown red. "Before you tried to **_kill him_**!"

Draco fought the urge to argue with Potter. It wouldn't help his cause a single bit. "I understand your anger." He bowed his head. "I am truly sorry for what has transgressed…"  
"Yeah, I'm sure you are!" Harry spat. "You just wanting to rub his death in my face! HA FRICKIN **HA**! HARRY POTTER FAILS TO SAVE THOSE HE CARES ABOUT **YET AGAIN**! **_WHAT A BLOODY FOOL OF A HERO HE IS_**!" Harry threw his hands up in agitation. Draco, too, held up his hands, but in a gesture of defense and to show hiss pacifistic intentions.

"That isn't what I meant by it, Potter." He said shortly, his voice a bit softer than Harry had ever heard it before. "I was talking about what he said… How he could…" He was at a loss of words. "Just, never mind." He shook his head. "I shant keep you any longer." He turned towards the cubbies and was stopped by a dubious voice.

"You want my help, Malfoy?" Harry's face was painted in incredulity as he looked towards the receding Slytherin.

Draco shook his head, rubbing his throbbing temples. "I don't expect I'd get it." He sighed.

"Why do you want my help?" Harry asked, skeptically moving closer to Malfoy. Draco turned around and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I wouldn't, if it weren't important." He was on the brim of tears. "I- I didn't want to do this in the first place, be a Death Eater…" He said with a sigh. "Well, I did in the past, but the point is, Potter," He took a breath to stop from ranting. "I don't want to do this anymore. The only reason I stayed is for my Mother's sake." Even Harry, who had not known his parents, could understand the want, the need to protect someone close to him. He felt the same way about his friends, and he felt it about Sirius… "Dumbledore seemed to think I wasn't beyond redemption…" Draco pressed.

Harry felt his throat clench and he considered the situation. He knew what Dumbledore would have done, but what of Sirius? What would his Godfather have done in the situation? Hadn't Sirius said that Draco was to be pitied..? Or was his mind playing tricks on him again?

"I wasn't really expecting an answer right away." Draco's sigh broke the silent contemplation. He felt he would be sick if he had to wait in that ominous stillness any longer.

"I'll think about it, Malfoy." Harry said finally.

"Good." Draco nodded. "Meet me here in…"

"Three days." Harry interrupted. "I'll meet you here in three days at one in the morning, Malfoy," Harry made his way back to the portrait hole, still deep in thought. "I'll let you know then." Draco nodded in accordance and went to change.


	4. Ch4 Relief?

Harry sat on one of the couches in the Prefect bathroom's common room. It was a small room that led to the two separate bathrooms; one for the girls, one for the boys. He looked at the clock on the wall; Malfoy should have been there nearly five minutes ago… He wasn't sure whether he should wait for the Slytherin brat. Malfoy never did anything for him before…

Harry had been mentally debating with himself whether or not he should have come. It wasn't so much a matter of what he would say, but how he would find sympathy in his heart for Malfoy, of all people. Some days he thought that he despised Malfoy more than even Lord Voldemort. But Harry had seen a lot of things over the past few years. He'd seen how people could change; seen lives change in mere seconds. He hadn't been able to do anything about them…Could he possibly do the impossible and transform Malfoy..?

Draco scowled as he pulled himself tight against a wall. Damn Peeves. You could always count on finding him when you didn't want to be seen or bothered. He silently opened the portrait and climbed inside, closing it swiftly behind himself. He turned around to see Potter.

Draco let out a small sigh of relief. As much as he was hoping that the black-haired Gryffindor would be there, he highly doubted that Potter would show.

"You're true to your word, Potter." Malfoy gave a half smile. "Good to know."

"Shut it, Malfoy." As much thought as he had given to Draco lately, Harry was not about to start liking him.

Draco bit his lip to hold back a foul retort. "Sorry." HE said quickly. "I hadn't meant for it to-"

"It's fine." Harry snapped, cutting Draco off.

"Did you think about it?" Draco's eyes softened with hope. He sat down on a separate chair nearby. His heart was beating rapidly underneath his chest and he could barely get the words out properly, making the tone in which he spoke drop to a low, almost husky sound.

Harry trembled a bit as Malfoy's words hit his ear. He suddenly became embarrassed by his old, worn flannel pajamas. They had been Dudley's, of course, and draped over Harry's smaller frame, Draco was wearing elegant looking black fabric pants and his dark green robe was made of silk. Harry's cheeks blushed a bit and he snapped back into the present moment. "Yeah, I thought about it." Harry looked back at Draco and suddenly felt a pang in his heart.

Draco Malfoy was paler than he had ever been; which was saying something. His silver-gray eyes were almost lifeless and black, its pupils wide. His chest was rising and falling so fast that he could barely tell which the other boy was doing at the time. Draco had lost weight as well, enough that his robe was loose, revealing etched clavicles. He took a deep breath and bit back his surprise.

"I'll help you, Malfoy." He hung his head. "Merlin knows why I'm saying this," He shook his head, his black hair falling over his forehead. "But I'll help you."

Draco could feel the relief washing over his entire being; cleansing him of fear. "You, you will, really?" He choked back a sob. Harry nodded.

"I will, really." Draco jumped up and gave him a quick, awkward hug.

"Thanks!" He was gone before Harry looked up.

For a few moments, Harry's mind lingered on the touch of Draco's arms against his shoulders, and how it felt _right_ in a way…


	5. Ch5 Father

Draco Malfoy drew in a deep, nervous breath as he sat under an oak tree at the far end of the grounds. It was a bit chilly and he pulled his cloak tighter around his neck to stop the chilly bite. He looked at his watch; it was 5:47, and they were supposed to meet him at 5:30… Draco bit his lip. Maybe Potter's promise was just a cruel, sick joke..? Draco hadn't been lying when he said he needed help, that he wanted to change. He was supposed to meet the infamous Gryffindor trio under the tree tonight to speak with them and someone else from their organization to discuss what would happen to him. This made Draco far more nervous than he had ever been, even at his initiation.

Thinking about his Death Eater initiation mad him shudder involuntarily and he closed his eyes, trying to push the thought from mind.

"A little cold, are we, Mr. Malfoy?" An oddly familiar and kind voice asked him. Draco opened his eyes and looked up to see Professor Lupin, standing in front of the trio with his hand outstretched towards him. Draco accepted his hand and stood.

"Good to see you again, Professor Lupin." Draco wasn't sure what to say to the man whom his family had a large part in stopping him from living a normal life.

"It's just Mr. Lupin, now, Draco." Lupin tried to hide his contempt for the boy, he was always a kind man and Draco's situation was quite piteous. "shall we go, then?" He asked them all.

"Where are we going?" Draco raised his brow.

"We're meeting some people at The Three Broomsticks, I've gotten you all a pass from Minerva. This is way too important to discuss just anywhere." Draco nodded and they all headed towards Hogsmeade. "Why the change of heart, boy?" Lupin asked curiously as they walked.

Draco sighed. "I just want to protect my Mother." He said somberly, telling but one of his reasons.

"Mama's boy." Ron laughed under his breath.

"What was that, Weasel?" Draco snapped, growing tense.

"Boys…" Lupin said warningly. "Behave, will you? We're facing a serious matter here and if you can't be mature enough, Ron, then I'll have to ask that you not be involved further." Ron bit his lip and shut up.

They walked along in further silence until they reached the tavern, where Rosmerta directed them to a private room. Inside were Arthur and Bill Weasley (his looks still marred by the attack from last year) sipping drinks. They stopped speaking when the others entered. Arthur and Bill smiled at Lupin and the trio, but frowned upon Draco, who sat down as far away as possible from the Weasleys.

"Well, let's get started, then." Lupin broke the silence. "Draco, would you be so kind as to tell us your story?" Draco blanched and gulped. He was not very comfortable with talking about the bad side of his life, nor was he particularly comfortable with the people inside the room. It was really difficult to talk about his father and the Dark Lord and he felt he lacked the courage to say what they wanted to hear.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to say anything when a hand pat his from under the table. He looked around beside him to find Potter giving him an encouraging, urging look. "Well," He began. "Father and I never got on well." He said diplomatically.

"He beat you, didn't he?" Arthur interjected. "I remember my brother, Jonathon saying that you used to show up at St. Mungo's in pretty bad shape on a regular basis." His remembrance made Mr. Weasley give Draco a sympathetic look. Draco looked away from the group, biting his lip. He didn't want that fact known to anyone, and now he was even more vulnerable to them.

"Can I be excused?" He asked the table, leaving without an answer.

Harry felt a sad pang in his heart as he watched Draco leave the room. He had grown up in a bad home as well, but his Aunt and Uncle had never beaten him… He had started feeling sorry for Malfoy a lot lately… He sighed and waited for the blond boy to come back.

"Seems you hit a sore spot, Mr. Weasley." Hermione frowned contemplatively.

"I'm going to go get him." Harry got up and left.

Draco washed his face and bit back tears. He hated his father with a passion and the bitter memories stung his flesh as he remembered what life was like before his father went to Azkaban. He leaned back against the wall and sighed deeply, running his hand over his face and through his long, blond bangs. A few rogue tears escaped his gray eyes and he didn't bother to wipe them away as he closed them. Draco was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing. Someone had entered the bathroom.

Harry saw the look on Malfoy's face and bit his lip. Was he actually _crying_? **_Draco Malfoy crying_**? Harry didn't know what to do.

"Malfoy?" He stepped forward. "Draco..? You alright?" Draco didn't say anything and Harry felt his feet bring him closer. "Is it true? Did he hurt you?" Harry's hand was on Malfoy's shoulder now and his voice was a low whisper.

"What do you care, Potter!" Draco's voice was that same old spiteful one he had towards him over the years. "You hate me…"

"I don't hate you." Harry said automatically.

"Everyone hates me," Draco frowned deeper. "Especially you, Potter." Harry didn't know what he was doing, but he suddenly felt the need to wrap his arms around Draco and let him cry onto his shoulder.

Author's Note: So sorry this one took a while to get out! Been bust with school and things… Hope you like! Thank you to all of my reviewers, you guys make my day! And don't get mad about the lack of intimacy between them,.. I wanted this fic to be somewhat realistic in it's portrayal of a possible relationship between the two. Enjoy and review please!

Raye


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